A Guilty Soul
by Ryth76
Summary: There's no way,' Gaara thought. 'I could go to heaven...' and the Shukaku laughed. Angst. Spoilers for Shippuuden 17; manga ch. 261.


**A/N: This story is set during the Rescue Gaara arc, focusing on Gaara's emotions and feelings as he is dying.**

**A GUILTY SOUL**

**1.**

Pain… That was the only thing that told him he was still alive…

Gaara lay before the sealed cage in him. The seal had been torn. And the bars stood slowly bending open. _Shukaku…_ He thought dully, through dizzying pain– Kami-sama, it hurt! The Akatsuki… Was this their doing? Had they–

It didn't matter. The village was safe. They were probably looking for–

Some portion of him wanted to be able to say "looking for me…" But Gaara knew too well the circumstances for being chosen in his case. He wondered if being chosen not for abilities, but because _they_ wanted to put a tighter leash on him made him an usurper.

A fake.

He hardly cared. Being a fake wasn't the worst thing he'd ever done. And he had long since given up on himself. It had been a bit of a relief; one last thing to torment his sleepless nights. He had decided that if… _since_ he _couldn't…_

He would only hope for a little happiness while he still could. Among his family and fellow ninjas.

No luck.

_I wonder…_ And he felt his body struggling feebly _not _to let the Bijuu chakra escape his gaping mouth and burning eyes, unable to do anything. Unable to stop death that was slowly and agonizingly creeping nearer, and beyond that…

"_What's wrong, brat? You seem a little under the weather._" A shrieking laugh. The dying Jinchuuriki tried to answer, but gave a soft groan.

"_It seems you are dying… _The Shukaku knelt over him, grinning hideously with his jagged mouth. "Y_ou know…"_ The Shukaku paused dramatically, a triumphant smirk smeared across his snout. Gaara wanted the Shukaku to leave… wanted the Shukaku to forget…anything for the Shukaku not to finish.

"_I used to be a priest… I happen to know, it's harder for guys like you to go there… And impossible with a slaughter record of over six years. Especially during childhood, with a Bij–"_

_Shut up… shut up… _Gaara tensed, trying not to respond to the ache in his chest. The lump that now formed in his throat.

"S…" He forced through the searing pain. It came out as less than Japanese; it was just noise. "S- whaaa…?"

He had accepted his fate, hadn't he? He had mourned some, yes, but he had never really doubted it…

"_Don't act so tough. We both know it: Over time, the gates to forgiveness and cleansing…"_ Shukaku gushed.

Gaara's fingers were now digging into the chakra drenched ground. He already knew… but he didn't want to recall _it_… didn't want to think about _it_…

"–_close. The only way to escape is to become so powerful and ruthless that you become a Bijuu, like me. Too late for you, I'm afraid."_ Shukaku didn't sound at all upset.

Revolted, Gaara forced himself to ride the pain to speak. "I'd _never_…" He fell silent, overcome by pain.

There was a moment of silence, the giant Shukaku crouched above the small teenage who gasped for air helplessly like a fish out of water. Presently Gaara managed to relax a little. He was still hurting, but he was beginning to go numb. His nerves had been shredded by the extraction jutsu. The Shukaku spoke again.

"_You _told_ me you'd never try (Not that you ever _could_ become a Bijuu). That you didn't care, as long as someone loved and needed you before you went _there." The Bijuu laughed, drawing out the word, relishing it. "_Who _would_ need someone like you? You were never… _loved, _were you_?"

The dying ninja closed his eyes and a tremor ran through his frame. _It doesn't matter…_ He told himself fiercely, fighting against pricks in his eyes. _It wouldn't change what I've done… Where I'm going…_

He turned his head aside to gaze at his hands. His sticky, bloodstained hands. Bloodstains covered a good portion of him. No progress had been made in cleansing him of them. No amount of purity rituals, grieving, crying, begging, changing his ways, or acts of penitence had done anything for him. But despite everything, he had fought on, until he could no longer deny it:

He had killed too much, pleased the Bijuu too much… had loved and trusted only himself too much…

Eventually, he had decided that he couldn't do anything except try to find a bit of happiness, a bit of peace, while preparing to more or less accept his damnation when it came with quiet composure and humility, rather than to beg and cry, helplessly struggling against his fate.

_Naruto_… The thought arose unbidden, a simple wish.

Gaara forced it aside. He had no doubt that he would never see the blonde genin again. Naruto probably would feel some regret at Gaara's death, but only because he was the only other Jinchuuriki he knew…

Gaara lay still, losing track of time, blocking the prickling sensation along his body.

_I wonder if Temari and Kankuro are okay…_

Was that relevant? Not really… But Gaara found himself hoping that Temari and Kankuro were safe– that they were happy. His lips twitched into a soft smile. _Brother… sister… you don't have anything to fear anymore… Thank you, for staying near me until the end… Arigatou… showing me the light… Naruto…_

It seemed years before the Shukaku spoke again. _"Did you ever visit the temple?"_

Gaara wanted to lie, but he could barely talk as it was.

Shukaku laughed. _"You couldn't, could you? Remember how you told me the priests would help you… like they helped the other poor souls?"_

Gaara refused to answer. He'd tried… once, but the gates had been closed and locked when it became clear he wanted in. He had turned to speak to the priests and monks outside, to plead his case, but they had avoided looking at him, keeping a gap between them. Afterwards, they said that despite his title as Kazekage, as a Jinchuuriki – and with such a bloody and nightmarish past – his presence at the threshold had desecrated the temple, such that it couldn't be entered or approached for a month…

Shukaku didn't speak again for a long time, exhausted by the extracting technique. He was slowly detaching from his host, losing his intelligence along with him. It seemed to take him an enormous amount of concentration to say each sentence.

"_This is just a small taste of what lies ahead for you…"_

"I… know…"Gaara croaked out.

"_You won't be saved by cut nerves…"_

_I know._

"_It–"_ A long pause as the Shukaku tried to remember what it was he was saying._ "–Won't end…"_

There was a pause.

…_I know…_

X

X

Presently, Gaara became aware that it was harder to focus. He could barely feel or see anything. He could hear the Shukaku, laughing raucously in the darkness. His eyes closed and darkness enveloped him.

_(He watched Temari, Kankuro, Naruto and the others laughing and enjoying themselves against white from behind bars of blood, cut off from them and the light he craved. They seemed to shrink and melt into the light, transformed into pure energy. _

_And Gaara was left completely alone. He waited for someone to come back, to remember him, to reach through the bars and touch his hair and face, reassuring him that he had been loved and needed and he'd be okay. But no one came…)_

He woke briefly, then slipped back into dangerous sleep. But… at this point, did he care if Shukaku ate him?

_(People surrounded him, reaching for him with bloody hands, cursing and shrieking at him. Gaara fought to get out of the wall of those his younger self had killed. Three very familiar rain ninjas seized him, pushing him back into the center, leaving smears of blood on his shoulders. The mob dragged him to a pool of blood. He struggled against the wall of bodies, but they pushed him under the sticky fluid. He surfaced, gasping and choking for air, only to be pushed back down. Hands pressed his body to the floor of the pool. Blood burned in his eyes, coated his hair, filled his aching lungs. It began to dry on his skin, tightening painfully, as he drowned in the blood of his victims…)_

Gaara jolted awake. It was harder to breathe now. Death was only a few hours away… maybe less…

The Shukaku was completely silent. Too far extracted to speak, or even appear. Gaara tried to compose himself again. He murmured his regrets to the dead, only partially conscious, praying for their forgiveness and asking their anger to be satisfied with his death.

A smiling blond haired woman gazed at him with misleadingly loving eyes. _Kaa-san… I'm sorry you couldn't live… Please, don't curse the village anymore. Be contented with my death… spare our village from your wrath… Please don't hate me anymore… Your death is avenged now… I'm so sorry… Please forgive me…_

Another, someone who resembled the woman, as though her male equivalent, appeared. _Yashamaru… I'm sorry I killed my mother… I didn't mean to… I didn't want her to leave… You told me to die… Watch me… I'm dying now… Will you forgive me at last? Will you be appeased with this? Look in my eyes… I'm damned… Does it give you peace? Please, forgive me with this… Let this be enough…_

A disapproving man, tall and lean, glared down at him. _Father… Tou-sama… Until the day you died, you wanted me dead… Are you pleased with me…? I saved the village… The village you sacrificed Kaa-san and I for to make an ultimate weapon… Now I die as well… Does my struggle calm you? Does the dying me have your approval? Your love?_

He meditated on death and the afterlife, searching for peace inside himself. Seeking his acceptance of his lot, cleansing his mind of terror, of wishes, and of bitterness. Concentrating instead on the happiness of those he had come to care for after the Chuunin exams.

Gaara was running out of time to bless the living. Did someone like him have the ability to bless the living, having no blessing himself, nor hope for his own soul? Probably not… But he would give it just the same.

_Naruto…_ He had always been the more lucky of the two. He was hyperactive, overenthusiastic, and loud, but he had been made of tougher stuff. Gaara had to admit much of his problems with people after Yashamaru had been his own fault. Somehow, Gaara didn't hold it against Naruto that the Kyuubi host had been accepted and loved, while he had been cast aside. He'd found it nearly comforting, in a strange way, that any Jinchuuriki could be loved at all… and now it was strangely comforting that Naruto would live on to protect his friends and village.

_Naruto… Please… reach your goal of becoming Hokage. Become the greatest Hokage ever known… Thank you… for helping me taste the light again… to follow its path… until the end. I will continue gazing at the light, although… I can't go beyond here…_

He had once told himself that he had left the darkness, but the truth was only his heart, desires, and actions had left. He couldn't escape the shadow of the Shukaku, guilt, and his feelings of condemnation.

_Baki… grow old in the Council. May you become the greatest Elder the village ever had… Watch over my siblings… _

_Kankuro… _Tall, strong and stubborn Kankuro. Kankuro who shivered in terror and revulsion before Gaara… who had the nerve to argue with his cruel law. Kankuro who advised him and listened to his troubles… _Kankuro, brother… take care of Temari… Become famous throughout the land… As Kankuro of Suna… Puppet master… _

He was too tired to think straight. So tired…_Temari, dear sister… _Temari with her intelligent smile, with her mother's eyes and hair. Temari who had cringed before his uncontrolled hatred and power. Her warm powdered scent… Her strawberry scented shampoo… Her reassuring touch on his shoulders… Temari his precious sister, who had been as a mother to him…

_My sister… Protect our village… I've watched you grow from a girl who could barely… barely move her fan to someone who could devastate armies… I'm so proud to have been your brother… I'm sorry I terrified you so… made life so hard…_

_Matsuri. My student… I'm so proud… Live… _Weakening, Gaara struggled to stay alive for just a little longer… Just a little longer in the quiet lull…

His village… Watching him to protect them all, pulling away in horror at his madness… Hating him, hurting him, needing him…_ I love… _Did he? He had protected them… lived with them… worried for them… Was that love? Did he really mean it? But he couldn't finish. _I miss you all. _

Gaara had no more strength to think. It was taking everything just to breathe. He closed his eyes, hiding his blindness. A tremor ran through his body. He would be dead soon.

Behind his eyes, he could see a furious blond ninja in orange rushing through the tree branches, scars stretched and raw. His eyes were red, fangs protruding from his grimace. _Naruto?_ Perhaps dying was affecting his mind… Naruto was far away. He hadn't come back from Jiraiya's training yet. By the time Naruto came back, Gaara would be long gone.

Gaara felt strangely disappointed. He hadn't been able to pay back his debt. He hadn't even said goodbye before Naruto left.

He wanted to thank the Leaf-nin in person, wanted to show him how he had changed. He wanted Naruto to save him. Cocky, brave Naruto…Naruto with his brash voice, his bright grin, and his determination… Naruto, the Hokage wannabe… He wanted to become one of his precious people. He wanted to die surrounded by people who cared for him…

Even more so… He wanted to go where Naruto, and probably the majority of his friends, was going.

He meditated on those broken dreams, working to accept them as broken. The ache in his chest calmed into the ache of near agonizing acknowledgement. He couldn't speak to Naruto…He couldn't be saved by Naruto… At this point, even if Naruto tried, he was already dying.

He couldn't be one of Naruto's precious people… too late for that. And he had hurt Naruto's friends… Surely Naruto wouldn't forget it… He'd seen little of Naruto after that incident. Naruto had hardly acted like he wanted anything to do with him.

He couldn't die surrounded by people who cared for him…Instead enemies stood around him, feeding his life and Bijuu to a hideous statue, and he didn't even know if anyone _did_ care.

And, he couldn't go where Naruto was going… He had no chance of going to heaven. He was too marred, as well, to be reincarnated as a mere dumb beast. There was nothing else… His destiny lay with anguish and eternal suffering. He would pass through the gates of hell, to be tortured, burned, or drowned– punished forever… Never ending… alone and unwanted for eternity…

He was aware somehow that he was crying, as he lay before the Shukaku's cage, even though his senses had all but ended completely. _I… wanted to be needed… for me… to be wanted and loved… _Tears streamed down inner-Gaara's pale face as he stared up at the shattered gate with unseeing eyes. _I didn't want… I don't want to…_

Far too late for more – useless – tears, Gaara sunk deeper within himself as everything around him faded from black into a pristine white. He told himself that it didn't matter. Life had been a living hell for him. A single long, torturous day of blood and fear. Briefly touched with the influence of Konoha and his brief time as Kazekage, but still lonely. Still painful and restless. Why should real hell be so different…?

But Gaara once had _hope_ during his brief life. He had _fought_ to change. He had been _protected_ from most physical pain with his automatic defense…

He took a final breath and lay still, searching deeper inside himself for strength, closing his eyes, sheer white spreading even behind his black eyelids.

There was silence… the last of the chakra draining away.

Light engulfed him.

… _Farewell… __Everyone..._


End file.
